If this was the year that “American Idol,” the powerful, deeply influential but troubled singing competition, hoped to prove its worth as a minter of future music stars, it came up short. If it was the year it hoped to bring stasis to its lately-evolving judges’ panel, it also missed the mark. And if this was the year it hoped to prove continued dominance over the other vocal contest shows that have arrived in the wake of its juggernaut success, then consider that strike three.
The 12th season of “Idol,” which concluded with a two-night finale Wednesday and Thursday, won’t be remembered as the show’s nadir. That would be the ninth season, in which the winner was the characterless, gruff rock crooner Lee DeWyze. But it did mark the definitive end of the era in which “Idol” was as certain as death and taxes.
The stoic soul singer Candice Glover was named the winner over the roots-country singer Kree Harrison after a showdown that lacked tension or charm. Ms. Glover, who sang with the force and nuance of a cement truck, clearly had the better night during Wednesday’s performance finale, but Ms. Harrison had verve and flexibility that Ms. Glover lacked. Neither was dominant, though Ms. Glover did deliver this season’s definitive performance several weeks ago: a startling version of the Cure’s “Lovesong” (following the stark, woozy version first delivered by Adele) that prompted Mariah Carey, a judge, to march onstage and shower her with glitter.
In the first all-female finale since the show’s third season, the battle between Kreedom and Candy Girl, as the judge Nicki Minaj dubbed them, was hardly the conflict that drove this season, and it fell far short of other memorable “Idol” finale twosomes.
Instead the “Idol” dramas were offstage: a ratings freefall, even coming up short to “Duck Dynasty” by some measurements; the public spats between Ms. Minaj and Ms. Carey; the hastily announced exit of judge Randy Jackson, the show’s last connection to the its first season, not counting the host Ryan Seacrest.
Firstly, while “Idol” remains a ratings force, it is no longer the standard-bearer for televised singing competitions: “The X Factor” is more modern, “The Voice” is more narratively compelling. “Idol” is a legacy show now, a reminder of simpler times. And never has a season of “Idol” felt more like a pure karaoke competition than this one. It is not helped by the band, Ray Chew Live, which is well suited to a variety show but not one ostensibly in search of a modern pop star.
But of this year’s contestants, only a couple might have fit that bill anyhow: Angie Miller, the Christian pop melodramatist who came in third; Janelle Arthur, a country sparkplug who placed fifth. The best male singers, the undervalued but too prim Devin Velez and the technically proficient but shy Burnell Taylor, weren’t broadly appealing.
This year, the five male finalists — including Lazaro Arbos, who suffers from a severe stutter, and was this season’s emotional story-arc chum — were summarily eliminated before any woman got cut. It was a reflection of the lopsidedness of the talent pool, as well as what appeared to be careful engineering on the part of the show to avoid a continuation of its dispiriting pattern of white, male, guitar-playing winners, a streak that lasted five years before Thursday night.
But even though Ms. Glover broke that pattern on Thursday night, she came off humbled when tasked to sing alongside Jennifer Hudson, former “Idol” also-ran turned film star, who, politely speaking, ate Ms. Glover for dinner on their duet of Natalie Cole’s “Inseparable.” Ms. Hudson sang with pain and finesse, and Ms. Glover had perhaps heard of those things, but never touched them. The more impressive pairing of this-season contestant with a prior-season non-winner on Thursday night was Ms. Miller singing “Titanium” with Adam Lambert, two shamelessly emoting powerhouses going for broke.
On of the signature innovations of “Idol” in its early years was to have a judging panel with its own intrigue, but no matter how boorish Simon Cowell ever got, the judges’ dynamic never outshadowed the events on stage. This season, though, the tension between Ms. Carey and Ms. Minaj was at such a high volume that it often overshadowed the tepid contestants, and also what each of them did well as judges: Ms. Carey had a finely tuned ear and precise critiques, Ms. Minaj was an unexpected nurturer and the class clown. Ms. Carey also seemed grateful for the opportunity to peacock on camera for a few hours each week, even if it came at the price of some of her dignity. She was redeemed a bit Thursday night, when she performed a long medley of hits, nailing some of her signature high notes and singing with real warmth. Ms. Minaj did not perform.
Despite some early indications this season that Mr. Jackson might turn into the judging panel’s musical authority, finally out of the shadow of Simon Cowell and, one supposes, Steven Tyler, he quickly reverted to being the same old boulder in the road he’s always been, a fountain of empty cliché with a taste for pastel paisley. (It’s unclear whether any of the other judges will return next season, or, if Keith Urban returns, if anyone will notice.)
What passed for musical controversy this season came a few weeks ago, when Harry Connick Jr., who’s been floated as a possible “Idol” judge in the past, mentored the top four finalists, and was troubled by their tendencies to oversing without isolating or emphasizing the meaning of a lyric. It’s an old debate, older then “Idol” itself, and it came off like blaming salmon for not reading up on commercial fishing practices before spawning.
Mr. Connick might like “Idol” to be even more old fashioned than it’s become, but that’s no longer a viable option, and nowhere near an attractive one. Maybe the person this season with the most insight into the current state of “Idol” was Jennifer Lopez, a judge the last two seasons who, in the final 15 minutes of Thursday night’s show, returned to deliver a dynamic performance of a hamhanded new song, and also appeared in an ad for Kohl’s. She’s moved on, back to her old careers, knowing full well that “Idol” was a rest stop, not the final destination.
The 12th season of “Idol,” which concluded with a two-night finale Wednesday and Thursday, won’t be remembered as the show’s nadir. That would be the ninth season, in which the winner was the characterless, gruff rock crooner Lee DeWyze. But it did mark the definitive end of the era in which “Idol” was as certain as death and taxes.
The stoic soul singer Candice Glover was named the winner over the roots-country singer Kree Harrison after a showdown that lacked tension or charm. Ms. Glover, who sang with the force and nuance of a cement truck, clearly had the better night during Wednesday’s performance finale, but Ms. Harrison had verve and flexibility that Ms. Glover lacked. Neither was dominant, though Ms. Glover did deliver this season’s definitive performance several weeks ago: a startling version of the Cure’s “Lovesong” (following the stark, woozy version first delivered by Adele) that prompted Mariah Carey, a judge, to march onstage and shower her with glitter.
In the first all-female finale since the show’s third season, the battle between Kreedom and Candy Girl, as the judge Nicki Minaj dubbed them, was hardly the conflict that drove this season, and it fell far short of other memorable “Idol” finale twosomes.
Instead the “Idol” dramas were offstage: a ratings freefall, even coming up short to “Duck Dynasty” by some measurements; the public spats between Ms. Minaj and Ms. Carey; the hastily announced exit of judge Randy Jackson, the show’s last connection to the its first season, not counting the host Ryan Seacrest.
Firstly, while “Idol” remains a ratings force, it is no longer the standard-bearer for televised singing competitions: “The X Factor” is more modern, “The Voice” is more narratively compelling. “Idol” is a legacy show now, a reminder of simpler times. And never has a season of “Idol” felt more like a pure karaoke competition than this one. It is not helped by the band, Ray Chew Live, which is well suited to a variety show but not one ostensibly in search of a modern pop star.
But of this year’s contestants, only a couple might have fit that bill anyhow: Angie Miller, the Christian pop melodramatist who came in third; Janelle Arthur, a country sparkplug who placed fifth. The best male singers, the undervalued but too prim Devin Velez and the technically proficient but shy Burnell Taylor, weren’t broadly appealing.
This year, the five male finalists — including Lazaro Arbos, who suffers from a severe stutter, and was this season’s emotional story-arc chum — were summarily eliminated before any woman got cut. It was a reflection of the lopsidedness of the talent pool, as well as what appeared to be careful engineering on the part of the show to avoid a continuation of its dispiriting pattern of white, male, guitar-playing winners, a streak that lasted five years before Thursday night.
But even though Ms. Glover broke that pattern on Thursday night, she came off humbled when tasked to sing alongside Jennifer Hudson, former “Idol” also-ran turned film star, who, politely speaking, ate Ms. Glover for dinner on their duet of Natalie Cole’s “Inseparable.” Ms. Hudson sang with pain and finesse, and Ms. Glover had perhaps heard of those things, but never touched them. The more impressive pairing of this-season contestant with a prior-season non-winner on Thursday night was Ms. Miller singing “Titanium” with Adam Lambert, two shamelessly emoting powerhouses going for broke.
On of the signature innovations of “Idol” in its early years was to have a judging panel with its own intrigue, but no matter how boorish Simon Cowell ever got, the judges’ dynamic never outshadowed the events on stage. This season, though, the tension between Ms. Carey and Ms. Minaj was at such a high volume that it often overshadowed the tepid contestants, and also what each of them did well as judges: Ms. Carey had a finely tuned ear and precise critiques, Ms. Minaj was an unexpected nurturer and the class clown. Ms. Carey also seemed grateful for the opportunity to peacock on camera for a few hours each week, even if it came at the price of some of her dignity. She was redeemed a bit Thursday night, when she performed a long medley of hits, nailing some of her signature high notes and singing with real warmth. Ms. Minaj did not perform.
Despite some early indications this season that Mr. Jackson might turn into the judging panel’s musical authority, finally out of the shadow of Simon Cowell and, one supposes, Steven Tyler, he quickly reverted to being the same old boulder in the road he’s always been, a fountain of empty cliché with a taste for pastel paisley. (It’s unclear whether any of the other judges will return next season, or, if Keith Urban returns, if anyone will notice.)
What passed for musical controversy this season came a few weeks ago, when Harry Connick Jr., who’s been floated as a possible “Idol” judge in the past, mentored the top four finalists, and was troubled by their tendencies to oversing without isolating or emphasizing the meaning of a lyric. It’s an old debate, older then “Idol” itself, and it came off like blaming salmon for not reading up on commercial fishing practices before spawning.
Mr. Connick might like “Idol” to be even more old fashioned than it’s become, but that’s no longer a viable option, and nowhere near an attractive one. Maybe the person this season with the most insight into the current state of “Idol” was Jennifer Lopez, a judge the last two seasons who, in the final 15 minutes of Thursday night’s show, returned to deliver a dynamic performance of a hamhanded new song, and also appeared in an ad for Kohl’s. She’s moved on, back to her old careers, knowing full well that “Idol” was a rest stop, not the final destination.